It was a new day, and Anthony stood at the top of the stairs looking at the windows he had tried to wash. They were still streaked with dirt, and if not for Audrey he would have fallen out of them. It’s me against the windows, Anthony thought, and the windows are winning.

Not that things were all bad. Anthony remembered being on the lawn with Mackenzie and how their bodies fit together. Her eyes, just inches from his own, stuck in his mind. She smelled good, too — the thought embarrassed him, but he couldn’t come up with any other way to put it.

Anthony’s memory was fine, but his imagination wasn’t. He couldn’t picture asking Mackenzie to go on a date, or even having a cup of coffee with her. His mind skittered away from anything more intimate.

He sighed and considered the windows again. Mackenzie and Audrey could open the tops of theirs, so he should be able to do that, at least. He pushed down hard on one. It didn’t move. He opened one of the bottom windows and leaned out, not too far this time. He could see space between the sash and the casing, so the windows weren’t painted shut.

Anthony knew the windows had surely been washed many times. If he couldn’t do it, could he do anything right? He thought about his conversation with Mackenzie on competence and excellence. Mackenzie would would have something to say about a person who couldn’t even wash windows. It made him wince.

Still, he had told her you should try again if you screw up, so he studied the windows once more. Determined to be thorough, he inspected one of the upper sashes and saw an indentation in one corner, near the bottom. It was disguised by dirt and some lingering paint. He scraped at it and discovered a nail sunk in the wood. He found the same thing in the other corner. He thought the nails might hold the window in place.

Anthony took a pair of needle-nose pliers from his toolbox. He pulled out one of the nails and was starting on the other when Audrey’s admonition floated through his head. Think before acting, she had said. He had resolved to do it, so why not start now?

He placed a hand under the sash before he pulled out the second nail. Weight immediately pressed on his hand, and he lowered the window carefully, pleased that it didn’t fall and break. He laughed at himself for celebrating such a small success. It felt good, though.

Anthony washed the windows, inside and out. He had just finished nailing the upper sashes back in place when Katherine came up the stairs. “Oh,” she said, “those were really dirty, but look at the view now.” They could see the line where the Pacific Ocean met the lighter blue of the sky. “The views are just one more thing I love about living here,” said Katherine. “Thank you.”

Anthony reveled in her approval, and it made him want to tackle other chores. Nothing too hard just yet, though. He knew the kitchen faucet had been leaking since he arrived at the Apthorp, so he went downstairs to work on it.

His head was inside the cabinet below the sink when he heard Isabella say, “You know what you’re doing under there?”

“Of course,” said Anthony. He thought it was true, but he wished Isabella hadn’t shown up just when he was going to find out.

Katherine came through the kitchen door, but Isabella spread her arms to block the way. “Watch out!” she said. “Anthony’s about to perform a high-risk maneuver.”

“What’s that?” said Katherine.

“Turn on the water.”

Anthony opened a valve under the sink. He stood up and turned the faucet handle. Water came out of the faucet and, he was relieved to note, no where else. He turned the water off and grinned at Isabella and Katherine. “Voila,” he said. “All fixed.”

“That’s no fun,” said Isabella.

Mackenzie passed in the hall. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Anthony fixed the faucet,” said Katherine.

“Oh.”

Anthony didn’t think she was impressed.

The next day, Anthony carried some old window blinds out to the circle drive in front of the Apthorp. He was finishing up a project, and he piled the blinds on top of a big collection of junk. There were rolls of carpet, light fixtures, a damaged chair, and miscellaneous bags and boxes filled with smaller items. It was an accumulation from years of apartment living. Audrey came out through the Apthorp gate and asked, “Where’d all that come from?”

“A place enshrined in my memory, thanks to you,” said Anthony, “Come see.” He led Audrey back through the gate and into the laundry room. Extending his hand, he ushered her from there into the storeroom where he had slept on his first night at the Apthorp.

“It’s empty!” she said. The room was clean to the walls. “That was a lot of work.”

“Yep,” said Anthony. “There was almost nothing worth keeping. Now there’s room for storage areas, one for each apartment.”

A horn honked outside. On the circle drive, Mackenzie stood protectively between the pile of junk and two men who had arrived in a truck. It reminded Anthony of how she had guarded the Apthorp from him on that first night.

One of the men said, “What’s your problem, lady?” Then he saw Anthony. “This the stuff?”

“Yep.”

“Thought so. We’d already be loading it, except for her.”

“It’s OK,” Anthony said to Mackenzie. “I hired them.” He took some cash from his pocket and handed it to one of the men. “Here’s what we agreed on. Take it away.”

“Anthony’s going to convert the storeroom to storage spaces,” Audrey said to Mackenzie, “one for each of us.”

“That’s a good idea,” Mackenzie said, surprise in her voice.

Anthony bowed. “It’s good to be recognized in one’s own time,” he said. “Thank you for appreciating my excellence.” Mackenzie made a derisive noise and left.

“What was all that?” said Audrey.

“She’s been pretty hard on me, so I have to admit I don’t mind if she looks a little ridiculous,” said Anthony, nodding at the men loading the truck. “Still, you’ve got to admire the way she sticks to her principles.”

“Mackenzie brings that out in people,” said Audrey. “Sort of a baffled respect.”

“I’d really like to do better with her, but I don’t know how to start. Suggestions?”

“Just be yourself,” said Audrey. “She’ll come around.”

“Huh. I was hoping for a better strategy than that.”

Later on, Anthony knocked on Emily’s door. “You said you were having trouble with your lock. Can I change it?”

“Oh, sure. I thought you forgot.”

Isabella stopped to see what Anthony was doing. “Uh, oh,” she said to Emily, “now he has a copy of your key. From this moment, I’d say your virtue is at risk.”

Mackenzie came up the stairs, and Isabella said to her, “You want Anthony to change your lock? That way he can let himself into your room whenever he wants.”

Mackenzie glared at her. “Isabella.”

“No, wait,” said Isabella. “I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean it at all.”

Anthony replaced a screwdriver in his toolbox and gave a new key to Emily. “You know,” he said to Isabella, “I’ve got a key to your room.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Sure. Got keys to everything.” Anthony raised and lowered his eyebrows like Groucho Marx. “It’s my responsibility to meet all the needs of the Apthorp residents.”

“Really? Well, I’d say you’re not, ahem, up to that job.”

“In your case, my dear, I’ve given it careful consideration.” Anthony paused theatrically, leering at Isabella. “And I’ve concluded you have no unmet needs.”

Emily laughed from inside her room. When Isabella looked at her, Emily said, “It’s nice to hear someone dish it out to you for a change.”

“Yes,” said Mackenzie. “It is.” Anthony thought she might have smiled.